


What Would I Do Without You?

by Vizhi0n



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cuddling, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Negan is pansexual its canon soooo, Negan's potty mouth, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Simon being Simon, Smut, Threesomes, dirt talk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 00:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 11,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8823313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vizhi0n/pseuds/Vizhi0n
Summary: Oneshot's and stories centered around Negan and Simon's not-so-domestic romantic life.





	1. Liquor

**Author's Note:**

> Negan/Simon is my new fav ship leggo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon brings Negan a gift from Hilltop.

“Pass me the soap.”

“Say please,” Simon mumbled. Negan resisted the urge smack him - he chuckled and pressed his mouth against the other man’s shoulder. He’d be forever bitter that Simon stood several inches taller than him - without shoes, Negan had to stand on his toes to kiss the man.

Not that he’d let _anyone_ know that.

“You have blood on you,” Negan murmured. “What the fuck did you do while you were at Hilltop?”

“It’s roamer blood.”

“Uh-huh,” Negan murmured. “Did you bring me back any good shit?”

“Yeah. Liquor.”

Negan laughed aloud. Simon turned, squinting as the water sprayed against his head and washed away the dirt and grime on his face. Negan rolled his shoulders, snorting at Simon’s cheeky grin.

“Do I get a thank you?”

“Yes, yes,” Negan rolled his eyes and placed a soft kiss against Simon’s throat. “Fucking thank you.”

Negan exited the shower first - he had to peek and make sure none of his wives were milling about. He’d been lax with them, and he was fairly certain he’d caught a glimpse of Amber cozying up with Mark, but he hadn’t the time to investigate. Guilt was slowly eating away at him, and he knew his “affair” wouldn’t go unnoticed. Sherry most likely already knew.

“You look pissed. I mean, you’re usually pissed but you look…like, the sad kind of pissed,” Simon commented, tugging his pants on and exiting the bathroom last. Negan lay on his bed, damp hair plastered to his face. The box of liquor Simon had brought him lay on the coffee table, and he sat up to retrieve it.

Simon stopped him, flopping onto bed and tugging Negan against him.

“Nope. No drinking until you talk.”

“Fuck you, bastard,” Negan elbowed him in the gut. Simon blanched and Negan shook free of his grip, but decided to stay put.

_Maybe I do need to talk._

“I shouldn’t give a fuck what other people think, but I fucking do. It’s not fair to the girls—” Negan jerked his chin towards the door. It was late, and he knew the girls would be in bed, spending another night unsatisfied. Negan added, “Fucking _fuck_.”

“You’re the boss. You can do whatever you want,” Simon mumbled, his fingers sliding up Negan’s shirt. “You can screw whoever you want.”

“I wish it fucking worked like that.”

“You made the rules. You can change them,” Simon stopped, his expression somber. “Unless…you want to go back to the girls. I understand—”

“The fuck? No,” Negan scoffed, licking his lips when Simon let out a sigh. “I told you, those girls make my dick hard, and so do you. Fuck, I bet they wouldn’t mind if I married you.”

Simon grimaced. “We had this discussion the other day. Who would replace me? _Dwight?”_

_Good point._

Negan let out a breath, shrugging his shoulders. Simon snorted, ducking his head. Negan stared up at the ceiling, listening to Simon’s heavy breathing for a few minutes.

“I care about you,” Negan said suddenly. “Like, I actually give a fuck. I worry about you when you leave and shit - if you married me, that shit wouldn’t happen.”

“That’s cute,” Simon replied softly, pursing his lips. “Maybe if there wasn’t so much shit to get done, things would be different. But that’s not on me.”

“You are an _asshole_.”

“So are you, but I don’t complain about it,” Simon raised his eyebrows and flicked Negan on the nose. Negan batted his hand away, feeling Simon’s weight press slightly against him as the taller man easily overpowered him.

“You know, this is kinda hot,” Negan breathed as Simon finally kissed him (that teasing fucker). His lips were soft - softer than Sherry’s or Ambers. Negan found himself laughing into Simon’s mouth, smirking when the man tugged at his lower lip before pulling away and tilting his head.

“The fuck did you stop for?”

“Why are you laughing, fearless leader?”

Negan rolled his eyes. “We should get one of the girls in here.”

Simon shook his head. He tugged hastily at the hem of Negan’s shirt, prompting Negan to simply slid it off. Simon murmured, eyes heavy with lust, “I’m not sharing you. Hell no. That’s not how this works,” he leaned down and pressed an open mouthed kiss against Negan’s pulse, his teeth tugging at the skin until it turned red.

Negan grinned.

“ _That’s my boy_.”


	2. Merry Fuckin' Christmas (Pt 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon decides to get into the Holiday spirit, much to Negan's disapproval.

“What;s your favorite holiday?” Simon asked languidly. It was dark out, and the two men were settled in for the night. And once again, Simon was being a fucking cuddler - not that Negan minded, he just wasn’t used to the affection. Lucille had been the same way, especially while sleeping. Now, not even his wives really enjoyed post-coital touching. 

“The ones where you get free shit,” Negan murmured, groaning softly into the pillows as Simon began massaging his shoulders, rough fingers uncoiling tightly wound muscles. “Simon, if you keep that shit up I might have to-”

“Might have to what?” Simon purred, nipping at Negan’s ear. 

“Make you Sanctuary’s personal fucking masseuse,” Negan twisted his neck to peer into Simon’s dark eyes. He grinned against Simon’s mouth and returned the kiss with vigor.

“How many points does that get me?”

“All of them,” Negan, bare chested, rolled onto his back and stared into his lovers eyes. Simon smirked, running fingers through Negan’s unruly hair. “ _Baby_ , you don’t need any fucking points with me, you know that?”

“Yeah, but not everyone else does. And don’t you dare ask me to marry you again,” Simon shook his head, raising a finger before Negan could speak. “I’m not about that. I’m not down with that.”

“It would be easier-”

“It would be _easier_ ,” Simon sitting up a bit and pinning Negan’s hands to the bed with his own, staring down at his leader. “For you to shut up about it and tell me what you want for Christmas.”

“Oh, fuck,” Negan hissed, closing his eyes. “Is that this month?”

“December, yeah,” Simon replied. “I know your girls do their own thing, you know, with Sherry being Jewish and everything-”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You don’t really ever participate,” Simon added sadly. “It doesn’t have to be much. Just something fun, you know? Bust out the scotch, get a tree, maybe-”

“No trees.”

“Why not?”

Negan sighed, scolding himself for even allowing Simon to bring Christmas up. 

“I’m allergic.”

* * *

“Where the fuck is Simon and rest of those fuckers?” Negan exclaimed. Dwight raised his hands in a placating gesture, before shrugging. 

“Don’t know. Simon mentioned going on a short run the other day - did he run it by you?”

_No. Fucking moron._

“Yeah,” Negan said tersely. “He must have left after we - I mean I - went to bed. His ass is dead when he gets back.”

Dwight winced at the implications. Negan peered through the gate, brows furrowed as he searched the stretch of road for any signs of movement - alive movement. When he saw nothing he cursed and kicked at the gate, spinning and bypassing a startled Dwight.

Seven hours passed. Seven agonizing hours of Negan displaying some of the best acting he’d ever done, pretending to focus on getting work done and masking the anxiety gnawing at him from the inside. It had never bothered him like this before. Nothing had ever bothered him like this before, not when Bud had left or when he’d sent Paula to investigate the Satellite Outpost.

Both of them had never made it back.

“I’m not in love with that fucking idiot,” Negan grumbled to himself, Lucille perched on his shoulder as he stalked down the hallways. “Fucking hell. Get ahold of yourself.”

At the seven hour mark, all hell broke loose. 

Negan heard Dwight and Arat’s shouts, followed by Carson’s voice crackling on his walkie, demanding him to, “get himself to the clinic, immediately.”

The sense of urgency hit Negan immediately. No other group was out scavenging. Everyone was accounted for. So unless someone had injured themselves on site by being a fucking moron, there was only one other possible explanation for what it could be.

Negan _ran._

* * *

“You’re a fucking amateur, Simon. Real fucking professional,” Negan tapped his fingers against Lucille, seething. “You could have died. You could have fucking died. A real nice Christmas present that would have fucking been - Merry fucking Christmas from motherfucking Simon - oh wait, never mind, Simon is dead as _shit_!”

“Okay, but hear me out - I _didn’t_ die.”

Simon and three others had returned. No deaths, and only one injury which, apparently, had occurred while exploring an abandoned cabin and the not-so stable floor had buckled underneath Simon’s weight, sending his toppling several yards into a walker-infested basement. 

How Simon had escaped, un-bit and alive, Negan would never fucking know.

_Okay, maybe he’s not an idiot. Sometimes._

“Twelve stitches, a broken ankle, broken ribs, and one hell of a concussion,” Carson listed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not even going to ask what the hell you were thinking.”

“Thank you, Carson,” Negan said, patting the doctor on the shoulder. He leaned forward, murmuring, “Could you leave us alone for a moment?”

Carson obeyed, closing the door behind him and dousing the room in silence. Simon moved to grab his shirt but Negan stopped him, gripping his wrist, _hard_.

“Now do you want to tell me what the _fuck_ you were doing out there before I fucking take the iron to your balls?”

“Aw, you don’t mean that,” Simon pouted. “Help me put on my shirt and then help me to my room. Your _gift_ is waiting for you.”

“A fucking _Christmas_ gift,” Negan snarled. For once, Simon looked surprised at Negan’s sudden burst of anger. “You almost got yourself killed for a fucking _Christmas_ gift?”

“Yeah.”

Negan pinched the bridge of his nose, pulling away from Simon and resisting the sudden urge to bash _something_ into pieces with Lucille. 

“Out of all the fucking things-”

“Damn. I thought you’d be a bit more grateful, you know, This isn’t like the scotch I brought back from Hilltop I, uh, actually had to work for this one.”

“You could have _died_.”

“Uh-huh. You said that already.”

“You fucking think I’d rather have this _bat_ or do you think I’d rather have _Lucille_?” Negan yelled. Simon jumped, cursing as he jostled his injuries. “You think I’d rather have your _presents_ or or do you think I’d rather have _you_?”

Simon said nothing.

“That’s what I fucking mean, you fucking dumbass,” Negan said loudly. “That’s the shit I’m talking about. You could have fucking died and then what? What the fuck am I supposed to do then?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re damn right,” Negan didn’t know what to do with his fists - they kept clenching and unclenching, eager to get around something. He barely felt Simon’s own hands grasp his. 

Again, Simon said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he tugged Negan against him, murmuring apologies against Negan’s lips. 

“I’m still beating your ass later for this,” Negan said between kisses. “That present better blow my fucking dick sky high if you want to get out of it.”

“It is,” Simon replied. “You’ll find out on Christmas.”


	3. Merry Fuckin' Christmas (Pt 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon let's Negan open the present.

“I’m actually proud of you for waiting,” Simon cooed. He sat cross-legged on Negan’s bed, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Negan paused, tilting his head towards Simon and acknowledging his giddy expression.

“I’m lighting candles and shit. Getting in the holiday spirit,” Negan replied. He eyed the poorly wrapped, rectangular object sitting in the corner. Simon had hauled it up during his down time, basking in how curious he’d made Negan. Simon had been insistent, snapping whenever Negan dared to try and open it before Christmas.

“Should have found one of those…fake trees,” Simon said. He shifted a bit, hissing as he jostled his injuries. He was still healing, but had insisted that he be allowed to work just a bit. Negan had agreed, impressed by his enthusiasm. Stubbornness was a trait both men shared.

Negan finished lighting the candles before removing his jacket and belt, using his mouth to pull off his glove. He ran his fingers through Simon’s hair, combing it back away from his face. 

“Can I _please_ open my present now?”

“You can,” Simon said cheekily. 

Negan tugged the large object over, resting it on the end of the bed. Simon watched, practically vibrating with excitement. The thing was wrapped in ugly brown paper with a haphazard bow tied around it. Negan tugged at the binding, unwrapping the gift slowly and carefully.

It was a painting. Negan’s heart almost jumped through his throat when he saw what exactly the painting was.

It had to be old - Renaissance, maybe? Possibly a little younger than that. The woman staring back at him had pale skin and beautiful blue eyes, her hair long and darker than olives. She sat in a chair, adorned in a beautiful white dress. Her features were soft and welcoming. 

The woman staring at him was Lucille. It had to be. Negan met Simon’s eyes, and for the first time, he couldn’t say anything.

“I know it’s not really her. I know, I just…when you told me about her and said that you didn’t have any pictures of her, I thought about maybe finding you something close to that.”

“You got the eyes right and the hair…the lips…how did you fucking find-”

“I went from house to house. Went to Hilltop, Alexandria…there were similar paintings but they didn’t do _her_ justice,” Simon replied softly. “I eventually found this in a cabin, framed and everything. I went off how you described her to me.”

“Thank you,” Negan wheezed.

_You’re gonna cry, you big fucking softie._

“I didn’t get you shit,” Negan said suddenly. “I’m a selfish bastard. I didn’t get you anything for Christmas and you got me  _this_ …”

“It’s fine,” Simon shrugged.

“It’s not fucking fine. I need do better by you,” Negan said firmly, holding the painting and running a finger across its smooth surface. “And I will. I swear to fuck I will, because I know how I fucking feel about you, now.”

“I didn’t think you’d say it first,” Simon said, seemingly in awe. “You sure I ain’t making you soft?”

Negan leaped like a mountain lion, gaining the upper hand and pinning Simon to the bed, which creaked under his added weight. Simon laughed, cursing when he realized that he’d been caught. He sighed in defeat, allowing Negan to tear away his shirt and pants and well, everything, Negan’s palms found the hard muscules of Simon’s torso, and he was carful not to put to much pressure on his injuries. 

_A post-sex trip to Carson’s would really put a shitty twist on their holiday outing._

Negan smirked, shaking his head and kicking off his own clothes, feeling Simon’s fingers gently wrap around his throat. He dove back down for another kiss, his tongue pushing past Simon’s teeth. He got a bolder idea, suddenly, and Negan’s fingers found themselves grasping Simon’s erect cock. 

“Oh - _okay_ ,” Simon choked. He pushed against Negan a bit. “Let me take care of you-”

“No,” Negan replied firmly, running his thumb across Simon’s leaking tip. His hand became wet with liquid and he was able to begin pumping Simon’s cock in one hand while the other brushed a strand of hair away from his lover’s eyes. 

“You gonna beat my ass now?” Simon questioned, managing to catch Negan’s mouth with his own. He gave a rasping cry when Negan leaned down nipped at his neck. “Like you promised you would?”

“Fuckin’ later,” Negan mumbled against his skin, his teeth dragging against Simon’s throat. “See, cause right now, I’m going to fuck the holy _hell_ out of you.”


	4. Lay Waste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan loses his other half.

Every single time Simon left, Negan became worried.

They weren’t apart for very long - Simon was in charge of Hilltop while Negan surveyed Alexandria, so most of their supply runs were done during the same day. They’d meet back up, and treat themselves to a nice dinner, just enjoying each others company. It was sickeningly domestic, but Negan didn’t mind.

Then they’d crawl into bed - sometimes. They’d fuck, and then fall asleep wrapped around each other. It was a routine that would, seemingly, never be broken.

_Fucking naive._

“I’m going with you this time, right?” Simon said boldly, hopping on one foot as he slid on his boots. Negan shrugged on his jacket and nodded, flashing a rare, _genuine_ smile. Simon face became alit with joy and he rolled his shoulders, pulling on his boot before going to stand in front of Negan.

“You fucking doof,” Negan chuckled and patted Simon’s cheek, peering into the younger man’s eyes. He was like a child in a candy store when it came to the idea of dispatching roamers, especially when he knew his leader would be present. It would be a date, Negan decided.

“You are _good_ to me,” Simon purred. He pulled Negan against his chest and chuckled. “I’m not surprised, though.”

“Maybe I’ll reward you when we get back.” 

“I should reward you for letting me _come_ ,” Simon replied, a devilish smirk dancing across his handsome face. He gnawed on his lower lip, one hand slipping deftly past the waistband of Negan’s pants.

“I’d fucking love that,” Negan hummed, quickly removing his belt.

“I live to serve,” Simon murmured, sinking to his knees and pulling Negan’s pants and boxers down with him. Maybe it was the fact that Negan was smitten (not in love) but Simon’s lips felt better than any of his _wives._

_Isn’t that the first sign of love?_

No. Love was too strong of a word. Negan groaned when Simon braced one hand on his bare thigh and took his cock as far back as it would go, his big hand expertly stroking and giving Negan’s balls some well-sought out attention. The man was a fucking _genius,_ his mouth sliding up and down Negan’s shaft in an almost rhythmic motion.

_Maybe it’s because he knows what you like._

“Aa-h,” Negan lurched forward, letting slip a content sigh. Simon hummed as a response and pulled back, lightly running his teeth against the tip of Negan’s dick. That simple movement sent Negan over the edge and he came, grunting out curses and peering down at his lover.

_Okay. Okay, maybe you feel something for him. But don’t say the L word._

_~ ~ ~_

_So naive._

The ride to Alexandria started out well. Negan felt an extra sense of safety knowing that Simon was with him, and he had no doubts that the trip would be short and sweet. That is, until it started raining and thundering and one thing led to another.

The truck became stuck in the mud after the first two miles. The eight men accompanying them desperately tried to pull and tug and push, but to no avail. It left them somewhat strange — _somewhat_ — in roamer infested territory.

“Fucking _fuck_ ,” Negan groaned, running his hand down his face. Simon was huffing, his dirt-caked sleeves rolled up to his elbow. The rain was still falling, but it had lightened up a bit. Still, Negan was soaked and annoyed. And tired.

_Fuck mother nature._

“What are we going to do?”

“Just fucking wait, probably,” Negan barked. He glanced around, narrowing his eyes. “We’re not far from home. If we have to, we can leave the truck and walk. But I really don’t want to fucking do that.”

“What, you out of shape?” Simon teased. Negan rolled his eyes and playfully punched him in the shoulder, approaching the rest of his men.

He didn’t make it five steps. A barrage of gunfire erupted from the trees. At first, Negan’s frazzled, irritated brain mistook it for thunder, but the sudden spray of mud and the sight of bullets bounding off the ground snapped him back into reality.

“Motherfucker!”

The truck windows shattered. One of the tires popped and then deflated. It took a full ten seconds for Negan and his men to start retaliating, but through the low visibility and the sound of rainfall  it was nearly impossible to pinpoint who and where their attackers were. They were in the trees, masking themselves.

_Fucking cowards!_

Simon’s gun was the first to explode - his posture was rigid and he fired at the trees, assault rifle steady in his hands. A scream echoed from within the forest, followed by another barrage of bullets. Bodies - _Savior_ bodies - splashed into the mud, and the carnage forced Negan to make a choice.

“Into the fucking woods! _Now_!”

Still firing, Simon repeated Negan’s order, only louder. When his gun became empty he backtracked and ran, joining Negan as they took cover within the trees opposite of their attackers.

_The noise. You know what happens next._

Negan swung Lucille and dispatched an oncoming roamer. Blood splattered against his face and shirt, and the sheer ferocity at which he swung his weapon caused his shoulder to ache. He saw Simon use the butt of his gun to cave in the head of one roamer, before drawing his knife and slicing the next. It was total chaos - gunfire and screams as unfortunate Saviors fell victim to the undead.

_This was a fucking ambush._

Negan didn’t have time to think about who was behind the attack. Especially not while in the _middle_ of said fucking attack.

A bullet flew past Negan’s head, so close that he felt it ruffle his hair. He bounded forward, turning his head to search for Simon and the rest of his men.

He saw no one. Just a few roamers drawn by the noise, and now, drawn to him.

“Negan!”

“I’m a little fucking busy,” Negan swung Lucille in a wide arc. He dared a glance and saw Simon, his clothes tattered and bloodstained, staggering towards him. Negan lashed out with a well-aimed kick that knocked the final roamer back, before he ended it with Lucille.

Simon’s hand on his shoulder caused Negan to flinch. He lowered his guard, sighing when he saw that Simon was unharmed. Bloody, but unharmed. The gunfire had ceased, and there was no sign of their attackers.

“Is it just the two of us?” Simon breathed.

“Think fucking so,” Negan panted. He tugged Simon into a quick hug, keeping a firm grip on his arm. “We’re getting our ass back home. I don’t know who the fuck those people are—”

Simon collapsed. The burst of blood came next, and then the sound of the gunshot.

At least, thats how Negan’s brain processed it all. The next gunshot grazed Negan’s ear, and he managed to pull out his handgun just in time. His attacker bounded through the trees, gun raised chest-level at Negan.

Three more bullets were exchanged. The man — a tall, scraggly, bearded thing — managed to lodge one bullet in Negan’s hand and the other into the ground.

Negan’s bullet hit home and the man’s head snapped back followed by a spray of blood.

Silence.

_Silence is the fucking worst._

Simon was on the ground. Blood was seeping from the hole in his neck and Negan new immediately that he had no chance of survival. There was so much fucking blood. And Simon was making these ungodly gurgling noises, mouth open and flooded with saliva and crimson.

“Oh,” Negan sighed and sank to his knees next to Simon. “Oh. Oh, no.”

The agony Negan felt did not come from his own wounds. Simon clutched his neck but the blood seeped through his fingers. Negan instantly moved to help, trying to stem the flow of blood even though he _knew_ that it was pointless. Simon was a dead man. Negan was trying to _save_ his lover, who was a _dead_ man.

“Shh,” Negan stammered. Simon’s limbs began to slow, his body beginning to slow and go limp. He locked eyes with Negan and managed a small smile — no words, just a saddening grin.

Then he fucking _died_.

He _died_ right in Negan’s arms.


	5. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon's dreams are far from peaceful.

Simon hated being even a minute late to places, and Negan knew that. With that being said, one of Negan’s favorite pastimes in the bedroom was preventing Simon from leaving him.

“You _could_ help me,” Simon grunted, attempting to tug on his shirt. Negan’s lips were latched onto his neck, kissing and biting his skin. “Instead of being a little shit.”

“I like it when you fucking curse,” Negan purred. Chuckling, he tugged Simon back onto the bed, running his hands through the man’s hair. He pressed three quick kisses against Simon’s lips before murmuring, “You’re getting some time off soon. You’ve been busting your ass hard for me.”

“You just want to keep me for yourself,” Simon accused, a grin flickering across his face.

“Fuckin’ true,” Negan laughed. He boldly rolled his hips against Simon’s smirking when he felt the other man’s erection against his thigh. “What, you wouldn’t want to spend a whole day rolling around and fucking?”

Simon groaned, grasping the side of Negan’s face so he could kiss him. He mumbled after a few pecks, “Okay, okay, can I go now?”

“Fucking fine. But your ass better come home in one fucking piece, ya hear?”

~ ~ ~

Simon, much to Negan’s delight, returned with zero injuries. Zero cuts, zero scratches, and in a jovial mood, having brought with him a truckload of supplies.  

_Happiness is…._

The two men, after indulging in whatever alcohol Simon had recovered, retired to bed. Negan had no intention of letting Simon go during the night, and awoke to the sound of his heavy breathing next to his ear.

_Fuck. What time is it?_

Negan sat up, grunting a bit as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Simon’s body was a lump next to him, hogging most of the covers - as he usually did. Negan rested his head against the pillow, only to sit back up when Simon shifted a bit, his limbs twitching slightly. His breathing changed from deep, rhythmic inhales and exhales to sharp but subtle gasps. He gave a soft whine and Negan’s hand shot out immediately to steady the sleeping man next to him.

“Simon,” Negan whispered, shaking his lightly. “Simon. Wake the fuck up, man. Wake up.”

He was still moaning and twitching - more intensely this time. Negan shook him harder, speaking louder this time. “Simon! Simon, _wake up_!”

Simon thrashed wildly for a second, his fist clipping Negan in the cheek. Negan cursed, but not before catching a brief glimpse of Simon’s face.

His eyes were open, and in the moonlight, Negan could see that they were bloodshot and glazed over with misty white, reminding Negan of the undead.

_No._

“Simon!”

Simon shot up immediately, blinking, his bare chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. He looked around wildly, muscles tense, beads of sweat rolling down the prominent vein in his neck.

“Holy _fuck_.”

“I’m sorry,” Simon stammered immediately. “I’m so, so, so, so, sorry.”

Negan groaned, cradling his sore cheek. Simon’s fists had grazed him slightly, but it was sure to leave a bruise. “You’re fine. You’re fucking fine - don’t worry about it. Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry—,”

“No. Don’t be fucking sorry and tell me if you’re okay?”

Simon’s breathing became steady, and he nodded his head.

“Shit,” Negan hissed, tugging Simon against him. “Don’t do that shit again, okay?”

“I was dreaming,” Simon murmured. “I guess. It felt real.”

Negan pressed a gentle kiss against Simon’s mouth, calming him. He laid back down, pulling Simon’s flushed body back against the bed. He said softly, “Sleep. I’m here. I promise.”


	6. Lover Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon finally tells Negan how he really feels.

“Negan?”

Simon’s voice roused Negan from his slumber. Both he and Simon were buried beneath pillows and covers, wrapped in each others embrace. 

“Fuck…what time is it?”

“Early.”

Simon’s grip on his tightened. Negan felt the man’s lips graze the back of his neck, breath tickling his ear.  Negan sighed, lips quirking upward in a smile. “What do you want?”

“I love you,” Simon said suddenly. Quickly. His voice was barely above a whisper. 

Negan’s body went stiff, but he didn’t push Simon away. Instead he rolled his shoulders and turned to meet Simon’s gaze. He looked so timid. Big, strong Simon. Looking scared. 

Simon added, “I just wanted to tell you. I figured…just in case.”

“I’m not fucking clocking out anytime soon, babe,” Negan said. “Don’t worry about that.”

“I’m not worried about you. Well, I am, but that’s not why I’m telling you this.”

Negan’s face fell as he realized what Simon was saying. Something foreign tugged at Negan’s heart. Something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

“You’re not fucking dying. Don’t talk like that. Don’t fucking say shit like that,” Negan held Simon in a vice grip. “You don’t have to fucking…”

“I don’t have a suicide wish. I’m content and I’m…happy. As happy as this world will allow me to be. And I’m happy because of you.”

Negan rolled over onto his back, pinching the bridge of his nose. He felt Simon shift next to him and place a hand on his bare chest. 

“You’ve made me fucking soft, Simon. Soft in the dick and soft in the head.”

“That’s not bad,” Simon purred.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Simon questioned, sitting up a bit to peer down at Negan, chest rising and falling with each steady breath. “What can’t you do?”

Simon’s gaze was intense, and a bit worrying. For once, saying something, anything, was the last thing Negan wanted to do. But he knew he owed Simon some sort of explanation for why he couldn’t return the love fully.

He’d never be able to. Never.

“I’d do anything for you. Any-fucking-thing. You know that, right?”

Simon’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded. 

Negan continued. “Fucking good. You’re going to have to…understand some shit, Simon. I don’t want you to love me. It’s not that I don’t want you, no, that’s far from the fucking truth. But I don’t want you to love me because you’ll walk away disappointed as fuck.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t give you… _that_. I just can’t. I’ve forgotten how - my heart doesn’t fucking know how. Or it’s fucking forgotten since…Lucille. Her.”

Negan pressed a kiss against Simon’s palm, feeling his lover’s hands trace gentle patterns against his chest and shoulder. He sighed into the kiss Simon suddenly gave him, closing his eyes and steadying his breathing.

_Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare fucking leave me._

_Why should he stay? What can I give him?_

“What do you feel for me?”

“That’s the fucking thing! I don’t know. I don’t know what it is. I want you to be fucking safe. I want you to be fucking happy. I want…you. All of you. But I can’t commit to all of you.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

Negan groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. Simon’s fingers were massaging his shoulders, now, kneading the soft muscles and joints. Negan murmured, “I don’t fucking know. Shit like this is complicated.”

“I want the same thing for you,” Simon whispered. “I want you safe and happy. And I want you.”

“You can fucking have me. Just not all of me.”

“It’s a process,” Simon muttered against Negan’s lips, tongue grazing Negan’s teeth. “I’ll get to you, big man.”

“Can we go back to bed now?”

“Leaders don’t sleep in,” Simon chuckled and sucked on Negan’s neck. 

“Who said anything about fucking sleeping?” Negan purred, tugging at Simon’s boxing and laughing. “Come here, lover boy.”


	7. Close Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon has a close call.

“You should have fucking stayed behind, watched over things,” Negan barked. Behind him, Simon shrugged as the two men, surrounded by half a dozen Saviors, peered into the half-open manhole in the middle of the street. 

“Nah. Arat’s got it,” Simon replied languidly, winking. Negan rolled his eyes, gaze shifting from Simon to the darkness below them. His men were jittery, unnerved by the fact that they were heading into the complete unknown. Whatever was beneath them lead straight to Sanctuary, and Negan had insisted that they scope it out. They’d have an extra, unknown storage space, and an alternate escape path if things back at home ever went south.

Negan rolled his shoulders, casting a glance at Simon, who headed underground first. He tested the ladder before sliding down, flashlight and gun in hand. Negan could hear his boots squelching against…well, whatever was on the floor. After a moment Simon called back up o them.

“It’s clear!”

Negan breathed a sigh of relief as his men, one by one, entered the manhole. The space, at first, was tiny and cramped. Flashlight beams streaked across the grimy walls, but after a while, the beams became farther and farther apart as the tunnel opened up into a much, much wider area.

They were knee deep in greenish, sloshing water by the time they emerged into the main cavern. The place stunk of rotting flesh and mildew - Negan glanced over to Simon, who had a damp piece of paper clutched in his hands. Without looking up, he said, “We’re almost right beneath Sanctuary. Those right there,” he jerked his chin towards the two crisscrossing walkways above them, “Are our way out, and our way in.”

“What about those doors?” Negan stomped through the water, already irritated that his boots were all but ruined. And his pants. _Fuck_. He avoided getting Lucille wet for the moment, the bat slung across his shoulder. He angled his flashlight towards the door in question, gesturing for two of his men to check it out.

The men stopped, looking back at Negan as they approached the steel door. The handle was rusting, and after a few jiggles, they were able to twist it and open the door. 

It creaked, and then fell off its hinges. The noise was incredibly loud as the object splashed into the water, followed by another splash, and then another.

In the dim light, it took Negan a moment to realize what exactly was happening. The screams of his men snapped him out of his trance.

Walker after walker began pouring from the door, tumbling into the water before rising and lunging towards whatever prey they could find. Negan backtracked, barking orders. The water was turning a soapy black color as the two men who’d dared open the door - Kyle and Grant - began shrieking in pain. Kyle was pinned beneath the door, submerged, drowning, while Grant fell victim to the gnashing teeth of the walkers.

Gunfire erupted all around Negan. Bullets splashed all around him, and he rolled his eyes. He was jaded when it came to chaos. 

_Always something. Always people dying._

He swung Lucille, easily downing an oncoming walker. He saw Simon dart past, his handgun flashing, as he made his way towards a struggling Kyle. 

_He was still alive._

Negan cursed and hefted Lucille up before bringing her down _hard_ against the skull of an undead. He splashed through the murky water, nearly tripping and falling on something hard - a body, most likely. His sole target was Simon. The chaos around him was nothing.

Simon was struggling to hoist up the steel door, cursing, veins bulging. Several of the surrounding walkers began stalking towards his, mouths open. 

_Shit._

“Simon! Get the fuck out of there!”

Simon glanced down, before leaping back in surprise. The door fell again, and Simon landed on his back with a splash. He was lashing out at something with his foot.

_Kyle_

Behind Negan, someone screamed. Another one of his men collapsed, and Negan’s determination increased tenfold. He could hear someone yelling at him to retreat, to get back, to run. 

He didn’t. 

“Simon!”

Something grabbed him. He almost smashed it with Lucille, but when Negan turned, he saw one of his men attempting to hoist him up and tug him away. Negan shouted again, and Simon’s reply nearly broke him,

“I’ll be right behind you! Go!”

“ _Fuck_ no-”

Simon, his hair a shaggy, wet mess raised a hand. He held something round between his fingers. 

“You might want to move!”

“Oh _shit_ -”

Simon tossed the grenade, through the open door and into the blackness. There was a short silence that seemed to last a thousand years before the flash of orange, followed by the concussive blast. 

Negan landed hard on his back. Hard enough that his head hit the concrete floor beneath him, and his nose became filled with water. He sputtered, sitting, up and wiping his eyes. Lucille had flown from his grip, and in a panic, he began searching. 

_Simon._

“Simon!”

He felt the handle of Lucille beneath the water and gripped it. Two of his men were hauling him up, back the way they’d come - towards the manhole. He was half carried, half dragged back to the surface. 

_They left him._

_THEY LEFT HIM._

He, along with other injured men, were discarded onto the asphalt. Negan was soaked from head to toe, coughing up water and cursing madly. By the time he caught his breath and gained the strength to speak, most of his men had fallen silent, awaiting instruction.

“Where’s Simon?”

Not a single person replied. 

“ _Don’t make me fucking ask you again_ ,” Negan bellowed. David, his rescuer, let out a ragged breath and gingerly placed a hand on Negan’s shoulder. 

“I don’t know.”

“You fucking left him behind,” Negan growled. He ran a hand through his wet hair, desperately trying to calm himself. He looked like a fool right now, snaring and sputtering. “You fucking left…”

“Sir-,” David began.

“Let’s fucking go, you stupid fucks,” Negan shakily rose to his feet, stumbling forward like a drunk man. “Before…before I fucking kill one of you for being so  fucking _stupid_.”

~~~

Negan bypassed his wives. He cursed at Sherry when she pried him for information, slamming the door to his room so hard that the walls shook. 

_I need alcohol._

_Way to deal with your fucking problems._

He stripped, first, dumping his disgusting clothes in a pile at the foot of his bed. He showered, the tile turning black with grime and blood. He did all of it numbly, his face tired and haggard. Like he’d aged twenty years in the span of a few hours.

_You kind of did._

He considered seeing Carson, and then realized that Carson would most likely come find him. He might as well get wasted - maybe screw around with his wives for a bit. Was it considered cheating? 

_Cheating. You’ve done that shit before._

Negan cursed. He got shit-faced. He vomited in his sink, nearly collapsing on his bathroom floor. 

It was nine o’clock at night when he finally broke down and began sobbing - he sobbed into a pillow so to muffle the sounds. He didn’t want his wives knocking on the door. 

He passed out for an hour or so and woke up, on his floor, in a puddle of his own drool. Lifting his head was a struggle, but when he did, he saw someone staring down at him.

“ _Jesus fuck_. I left for like…a few hours.”

“Fuck you, Simon.”

Negan hoped it was Simon. He stood, facing the figure before him. The man was covered from head to toe in absolute dirt, Mud, dirt, blood - everything. His eyes seemed to be the only visible flesh on his body, and they were wide with surprise. 

“I crawled through ten layers of shit to get back here to you,” Simon - yep, it was definitely Simon - said. “And all I get is a ‘fuck you?’”

“I’d fucking kiss you, but you’re covered in…whatever the fuck you’re covered in.”

“And you have vomit on your shirt. I need to shower and so do you.”

Negan let out a laugh, ducking his head. He was still tipsy, but not enough to prevent him from entering the shower and abusing it ever more with Simon’s filth. He stripped hastily, entering behind Simon and grabbing the detachable shower head.

Negan then proceeded to spray it in Simon’s face.

“There you fucking are, underneath all that shit,” Negan chuckled. Simon blew out air through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. He batted Negan hand away, gripping the shower-head from his lovers grip and doing the same.

“Fuck you, dude.”

“You started it,” Simon easily slid the shower-head back into place, laughing when Negan’s arms encircled him from behind. “Ow, hold up, I’m in pain.”

“Did you go see Carson?”

“No. I wanted to come to you first.”

“Ah,” Negan chuckled against Simon’s skin. “You love me that fucking much.”

“I just wanted to use your shower, since it’s bigger,” Simon replied, turning to stare down at Negan. He tilted his head, falling silent, before dipping his head and capturing Negan’s mouth with his own. 

_This feels right._

“I love you,” Negan murmured. Simon sucked in a breath, and Negan kissed him once more. “Stop it. Don’t say _shit_.”

“You said-”

Negan silenced him once more with another kiss, tugging Simon’s body against his own. “I said not to say _shit_. Oh, and Simon?”

“Yeah?”

Negan leaned forward, his lips grazing Simon’s ear.

“Where the _fuck_ did you get a grenade?”


	8. 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 26 Drabbles about Negan and Simon's relationship.

**A** ttention - Negan never lets Simon out of his sight while on a run. He hyper focused on his partner, but still able to bark orders to his men. 

 **B** ath - 

_“Get the fuck in here, Simon!”  
_

_“I like showers better, boss.”  
_

_“Does it look like I give a flying fuck? This tub is to small for just one fucking person.”_

**C** rying - Negan has only seen Simon cry, once, when he recounted how he’d lost his sister, brother, and niece at the beginning of the apocalypse. Both men had been particularly drunk, but that hadn’t stopped Negan from tugging Simon into a hug. 

 **D** eath - When Simon was killed during a routine run to Hilltop, Negan had cried. He’d drank, and then he’d cried. The rage had consumed him and he’d ordered a party to rush to Hilltop immediately. 

 **E** mpty - Simon’s life had always been particularly empty, even before the apocalypse. Negan’s presence had somewhat solved that problem, though Simon knew there would always be a hole in his heart due to the loss of his family.

 **F** riend - Simon, first and foremost, was Negan’s friend. Negan hadn’t had many of those before the end of the world, and when Simon had first offered his kindness, Negan could barely believe it - the man seemed to _want_ to be around him, something Negan wasn’t used to.

 **G** ay -

_“Negan, are you gay?”  
_

_“No?Yes? I mean, I like pussy and I like dick. No big fucking deal.”_

**H** elp - 

_“You know, if you ever need help with anything, I’m here,” Simon murmured.  
_

_“I fucking know.”  
_

_“You won’t be a bother.”  
_

_“…I know.”_

**I** nterest - Simon first took interest after observing him…well, iron Dwight’s face. The whole production - Negan’s speech, followed by the rather ceremonious _burning of the face_. Negan charisma, his swagger…Simon had fallen in deep immediately. 

 **J** erk - 

_“Am I still in trouble?”  
_

_“No - not after - fuck, yes, right there. Fucking fuck…”  
_

_“That’s what I though,” Simon ran his thumb across the leaking head of Negan’s cock. “Jerk.”_

**K** iss - Simon had only kissed Negan once in public, and luckily, it had gone unnoticed. After a close call with a walker Simon had tugged Negan in for a quick kiss before glancing around, relived that none of his men had seen. 

 **L** ove - 

_“I, uh, fucking love you, Simon.”  
_

_“Hush, lover boy.”  
_

_“That’s my fucking nickname!”_

**M** ocking - Simon _loved_ to tease. Behind closed door, away from the rest of the Saviors, Negan was constantly at Simon’s mercy. It was only after Simon began to drop innuendos that Negan would retaliate, proclaiming that Simon needed to be taught a lesson. A lesson that usually began with a kiss and then led somewhere else entirely. 

 **N** ever -

_“You’ve never ridden a fucking bike before?”  
_

_“Never had the need.”  
_

_“Simon….what the fuck type of childhood did you have?”_

**O** ral - who was better at oral sex? Simon, of course. He’d had far more male lovers than Negan. By their second encounter, Simon had managed to learn a majority of what Negan found to be pleasurable - lightly grazing his teeth across the head of Negan’s cock was the quickest way to get him to come. 

 **P** rotection - 

_“You know I’ll fucking protect you, right? Like, I know you can take care of yourself and shit. I just don’t want you to fucking go out and do something fucking stupid because you think nobody has your back.”_

**Q** uestion -  Simon was the first to pop the question to Negan. Negan had laughed, believing it to be a joke. He had to admit he was rather attractive towards Simon, and by the time he’d opened his mouth to reply it had been to late. Simon’s heavy body had Negan pinned, and Negan found himself aroused and ready. Wanting, no, needing to touch the man he’d been eying for months.

 **R** ough -

_“Oh, fuck - Simon! Simon, baby, you’re fucking hurting me!”  
_

_“Shit. I’m sorry.”_

_“It’s fucking fine,” Negan shifted beneath his lover. “I fucking forget how strong you are sometimes.”_

**S** ex - Negan would always be the dominant one when it came to sex, despite Simon being the larger of the two men. Beneath Simon’s sarcastic, rather perturbed persona, there was an air of authority. Negan remembered the time when Simon had pinned him to the bed and doled out a rather _fitting_ punishment. 

 **T** ired -

_“I’m tired.”_

_“Then fucking go to sleep, babe.”  
_

_“Come with me.”  
_

_“I have shit to do.”  
_

_“Shit that you can do after we rest.”  
_

_“Fucking fine.”_

**U** nderwear - 

_“Calvin Klein? Where the fuck did you find this?”  
_

_“On a run.”  
_

_“I fucking love it, babe.”_

**V** iolence - Simon had never met anyone as…violent as Negan. He’d seen his lover bash a man’s brains in and iron someone face, all so he could keep his people alive. Such brutality wasn’t really Simon’s cup of tea, but he understood why Negan felt such violence to be necessary. 

 **W** ater - 

_“I don’t fucking like the beach.”  
_

_“Oh, c’mon, Negan! Everyone likes the beach.”  
_

_“Well, not fucking me!”_

**X** -Rated-

_“I found some good shit when I was at Alexandria, Simon.”  
_

_“What is that?”  
_

_“It’s a fucking video camera,” Negan held up the device. “I have some pretty fucking x-rated ideas of what we can use this baby for…”_

**Y** outh - 

_“You looked hot when you were younger, Negan.”  
_

_“I know.”_

**Z** zz - Simon preferred to be the big spoon, and Negan liked that - he could feel Simon’s heartbeat against his back, and his soft breath against the back of his skin. He was comfortable, wrapped in his lovers embrace. 

He was _home_.


	9. Negan Hates Valentines (Pt 1.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan needs to do something nice for Simon.

“You need to do something nice for Simon,” Arat said. “For Valentines Day.”

Negan, for the first time in his life, nearly _missed_. He snarled, heaving Lucille upwards and smashing it down upon the biters head, flashing Arat an annoyed glance. She was chuckling, wiping her bloody knife in the grass. 

“Excuse me,” Negan huffed. “How the _fuck_ did you find out about us?”

“Common sense.”

Negan snorted, dispatching another roamer. He and Arat began backtracking towards Sanctuary’s gates, speaking as they walked. 

“Common fucking sense? What, have we been fucking grabbing each others dicks in public?”

“You’re always worried about him. Like, always. I’ve seen it. I’m not dense,” Arat tilted her shin upwards. “And I overheard some of your wives complaining that you’re not around.”

“Fuck them,” Negan rolled his eyes. “What the fuck _ever_. Why do you even care?”

“Because I’m your friend. And I’m Simon’s friend,” Arat replied. “And you obviously haven’t done  anything romantic in a while.”

Negan narrowed his eyes. She had a point - Simon deserved something nice. The man worked his ass off for Negan, and not once had Negan heard him complain. The man had nearly _died_ to get Negan the painting of the Lucille look-alike during Christmas, and Negan couldn’t imagine how he’d try and up the scales this time.

_I’ll have to confine his ass to my room for Valentines, literally for safety reasons._

“Fine. You’re a woman. What’s fucking romantic?” Negan wrinkled his nose and hefted Lucille against his shoulder. “What do you think Simon would like.”

“You’re his boyfriend. Why are you asking me what he likes,” Arat rolled her eyes.

“We’re not - he’s not my fucking boyfriend or whatever. That’s fucking weird,” Negan shivered, and Arat sighed, rolling her eyes so hard that they would surely disappear into her head. “Make it something fucking simple.”

“What’s his favorite food?”

“I don’t fucking know.”

Arat’s mouth dropped open, and she gasped. “How the hell do you not know his favorite food?”

“Hasn’t come up in casual conversation - Jesus fuck, girl, calm down,” Negan reared back. Arat looked ready to slap him.

_Oh, wait, she always looks like that._

“I’ll fucking ask him. Fine, fine,” Negan raised his hands in a placating gesture, stepping back. “We have a couple of fucking days, anyway. Shit’s not _that_ urgent.”

Arat narrowed her eyes, and Negan sighed. “Fucking fine,” he barked. “Fine, I’ll get on it Soon.”  
~       ~        ~

“What’s your favorite food?”

“Why do you ask these things,” Simon groaned, rubbing his eyes, rolling over onto his back. “Always at night? Always.”

“Maybe I’m trying to get in your fucking pants.”

“That’s not…” Simon paused, sighing. “I mean, I’m alright with that. That’s one hell of a pickup line.”

Negan sat up, staring down at Simon. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

“Why do you want to know?”

Negan shrugged. “Fucking curiosity, I guess.”

“Well that’s _weird_ ,” Simon’s lips twisted into a smile. “And a lie. I know you better than that. Am I going to have to fuck the truth out of you?”

Negan flinched, realizing that Simon’s fingers were skimming the hem of his boxers. Negan blushed and Simon bent over, nipping lightly at Negan’s ear before murmuring, “Tell me.”

“ _Fuck_ no,” Negan breathed. 

“ _Negan_ ,” Simon sang, his fingers running across Negan’s hardening length. 

“Nope. Fuck it out of me, babe, I don’t fucking - care,” Negan yelped when Simon’s teeth latched onto his neck and his thumb began swirling around the head of his dick. Negan growled, annoyed that Simon had the upper hand. He gripped the back of Simon’s neck, tugging him into a kiss.

“You’re not in charge,” Negan mumbled against Simon’s lips. His lover chuckled darkly, large hands gripping the sides of Negan’s face. When he pulled away, Negan growled and planted a hand on Simon’s bare chest, shoving him back against the mattress.

“Who fucking owns you?” Negan snarled. 

“You,” Simon gasped. 

“That’s fucking right,” Negan purred against Simon’s mouth. “You are _mine.”_

Simon, face flushed, peered up at his leader. Negan was practically drooling from arousal, and he wondered how possible it was for his dick to get even harder than it already was. 

Negan dove down, tongue running from Simon’s ear, down his jaw and neck. He planted a kiss against his chest, palms splayed. He saw Simon’s fingers curl into the bedsheets as Negan went lower and lower.

“Don’t - Keep-,” Simon could barely speak, and Negan lifted his head.

“Keep doing what?”

“Keep doing _that._ ”

“Wasn’t planning on fucking stopping, babe,” Negan purred. “Lean back and fucking enjoy.”

Simon nodded, gulping, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to silence his breathy moans. Negan grinned as he felt his lover shudder beneath him. He licked a long stripe up Simon’s cock, before gently swirling his tongue around the head. Simon’s fingers immediately shot down to tangle in Negan’s hair, but Negan did not bat his hand away.

It didn’t take long for Simon to come - Negan couldn’t help but chuckle when he felt his lover groan and curse beneath him. 

Negan wiped his mouth and crawled up next to Simon, watching the man’s heaving chest, which glistened with sweat. Simon swallowed, before turning and meeting Negan’s eye.

“That fucking backfired on you,didn’t it?” Negan murmured. “You never answered my question.”

“I forgot it,” Simon breathed, letting out a deep sigh. 

“I asked what your favorite food was,” Negan murmured. When he heard Simon sigh, he raised his eyebrows, awaiting an answer. 

“Spaghetti.”


	10. Negan Hates Valentines (Pt 2. END)

_Why are you fucking nervous? Chill the fuck out - it’s Simon you’re cooking for!_

Negan had haphazardly rearranged his bedroom before retreating into the kitchen. He was grateful that the regular cooks had all but vacated he area - if he fucked something up, there was no way in hell than anyone else would see it.

_The fucker likes spaghetti. Easy._

Negan worked quickly, glancing out the small window. The sun was beginning to set, a sign that Simon was due to return home any minute now. 

_What a stay-at-home husband I am._

He sprinkled a bit of garlic into the sauce before slamming the lid atop the pot, sliding on his oven mitts and hurrying back to his room before returning for the noodles. He bypassed Arat, who grinned at him cheekily.

_Sucker._

“Fucking fuck,” Negan surveyed his little setup. Table? Check. Chairs? Check. Flowers - check. One of the roses had wilted but Negan really couldn’t bring herself to give a fuck. The flowers were homegrown - it wasn’t like he had a store to go to or anything.

Garlic bread? Check. 

_You should put on nicer fucking clothes._

_Oh, and get the gin. Simon fucking likes gin._

Negan was filling the last cup when Simon cracked open the door,

“We found - _whoa_.”

Negan’s head whipped to the side and he grinned, standing up with a glass on gin in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. He extended his arms wide and said as happily as possible, “Happy fucking Valentines day.”

About four different emotions flashed across Simon’s face - confusion, curiosity, acceptance, and then, finally, a huge smile split across his handsome face.

“You did not.”

“I fucking did. Get your ass in here,” Negan pulled up a chair and patted for Simon to sit. His lover did, gently shutting the door behind him before bounding over and practically tackling Negan.

“Watch the fucking gin, Simon - jeez,” Negan chuckled against Simon’s mouth. “And yes, I made your fucking favorite. That’s what the other night was fucking about.”

“You kept me in the dark long enough.”

“You’re very easy to surprise,” Negan laughed, wrapping an arm around Simon’s neck and staring into his dark eyes. He pressed a chaste kiss against Simon’s lips. “I figured that I ought to do something fucking nice for you, since you’ve been out busting your ass for me.”

“You…didn’t have to do all of this,” Simon stammered, glancing around the dimly lit room. “But thank you. No, really. Thank you.”

Negan’s fingers slipped into Simon’s hair and he gently pressed his forehead against Simon’s, closing his eyes and sucking in a deep breath. “I worry about you. Whenever you go out and shit…I do. I shouldn’t but I fucking do.”

“Domesticity isn’t my style,’ Simon replied sadly. “I mean, if going out gets me treated this way when I come home…”

“You greedy bastard,” Negan chuckled. “Welcome home. Now sit down and eat your spaghetti.”

Simon beamed.

“Happy Valentines day, Negan.”


	11. Shirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan rips Simon's favorite shirt during an intimate encounter.

“Negan, Negan - don’t rip -  _shit_.”

Simon’s head hit the pillow. Almost immediately his muscles relaxed as he felt the soft mattress beneath him. His focus was torn away in a matter of moments as Negan mouth peppered light kisses across his neck. His shirt was a twisted mess of fabric clutched tightly in  Negan’s hands.

“That was my  _favorite_  shirt,” Simon mumbled. Negan hummed and lifted his head, staring down at Simon through hooded eyes. There was no getting an apology out of him, Simon knew, not in his lust-blown state. 

Simon didn’t really mind. He found it even more alluring that Negan was so possessive and dominant in bed. Simon easily and readily submitted, letting his leader take control.

“You can fucking have one of mine,” Negan grumbled, planting soft kisses against Simon’s bare chest before moving up to his mouth. The leader grinned, tugging away, dragging his teeth over Simon’s lower lip before releasing it. “If it doesn’t fucking fit, you’ll just have to walk around without your favorite shirt.”

“I have other shirts,” Simon mumbled against his partners lips. He kissed Negan once, before helping him remove his own clothes. Their movements were rushed, aggressive. Simon wanted to feel Negan. The softness of the sheets beneath him and the softness of Negan’s skin, the warm pulse that Simon could feel beneath his fingers, was like a drug. 

“That was just your fucking favorite, huh?” Negan tilted his head to the side. “You and your goddamn fucking fashion sense.”

“I’d rather dress to impress than show up looking  _uncivilized_ ,” Simon said softly. Negan rolled his eyes, and Simon gently cupped his lovers cheek. “You  _know_ that.”

“If only I was as fuckin _g vain_  as you. Maybe that shit will rub off on me.”

“You’ve rubbed off on me  _plenty_. And before I forget, I want your blue shirt. You hardly wear it anyway.”

Negan cocked his head at the innuendo. Simon found himself grinning and waggling his eyebrows, impressed with his own joke. Negan laughed and kissed his fully, while Simon reached around to grip the hair on the nape of his neck. 

When he pulled away, Negan slapped him on the chest and breathed, “Asshole.”

“But you  _like_ it.”

“Yeah. I fucking do.”


	12. All I Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Negan relax.

“I hate that you’re fucking taller than me.”

“I can’t help that I ate my vegetables when I was younger,” Simon grinned and brushed his knuckles across Negan’s face, a risky move - none of the other saviors seemed to notice. They continued to sit around, others standing watch as the fire in the center grew dimmer and dimmer. 

There were very few times that Negan and Simon went searching for supplies together. It was usually a switch off - Simon would remain at the Sanctuary while Negan went off, or vice versa. Now, with Arat having quickly become one of Negan’s most loyal followers (other than Simon) they’d felt secure enough to go off together, leaving Arat behind to run things. 

_The closest thing to a vacation we’ll ever get._

Negan closed his eyes, Lucille resting in his lap. He and Simon were off keeping to themselves and to the shadows, a move Negan was starting to regret. 

Simon couldn’t keep his  _fucking_  hands to himself. Negan was paranoid about the prospect of  _any_ of his saviors finding out about this, though mainly for  _Simon’s_  sake. It didn’t help that either Simon didn’t know this, or that he did, and chose not to care. 

Simon drunkenly brushed his lips against the shell of Negan’s ear, firm hand squeezing his thigh. He couldn’t help it - the strain in his pants became even more prominent than before. 

“Son of a bitch,” Negan grumbled, gripping Lucille and nudging Simon away. The fire was just a small pile of flickering figs, now, and most of the saviors were getting ready for bed. Negan barked instructions, setting up guards orders before clambering into the back of the covered truck. Before he could set Lucille down and zip up the black tarp, effectively shielding him from the outside world, Simon slipped through. 

“Goddamit, Simon, someone is going to fucking see. What are you going to do if your dumbass gets caught, huh? I’ve got enough bullshit on my fuckin’ bigass plate already-”

“You’re stressed,” Simon’s mouth latched onto Negan’s, nipping and biting at the skin. As always, Negan surrendered. He could never resist his partners lips and his hands…

“I’m stressed because of you,” Negan hissed. Simon made a tsk noise before easing Negan onto his back. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Simon’s smile was so damn charming. Negan hated it. “Now help me get undressed.”

“I’m not a fucking boytoy-”

“Yes, you are,” Simon’s face went from mocking to serious. Negan rolled his eyes, but nonetheless, he began working his fingers beneath Simon’s shirt, past his navel and towards the hairs peppering his muscular chest. Out of sheer pettiness Negan grit his teeth and tore through the material of Simon’s shirt, discarding the fabric and resting his head contently against the blankets beneath him. 

“That was a dick move, Negan,” Simon breathed, his chest now bare and heaving, allowing Negan to see the veins in his neck and arms. He had such a goddamn nice body. Negan had once been jealous. Not anymore. 

That body belonged to  _him._

“C’mere,” Negan breathed, and Simon grinned. He knew what he wanted, and Negan happily obliged, granting him his wish as their lips met. A need for dominance brought forth aggression, until Negan’s white shirt was torn and his jacket was gone, pants bunched up between Simon’s fists. He bit down on Simon’s lower lip until he tasted blood, aiming to flip Simon over and regain control. 

Simon wasn’t budging. Negan got a view of his taut biceps as they reacted quickly, slamming Negan’s arms back against the blankets. 

They stopped. Both men were breathing heavily, staring into each others eyes. Negan tasted Simon’s blood in his mouth. He knew the taste well. He found himself chuckling, something his partner didn’t take to kindly to. Or he found it amusing. Simon’s facial expressions always changed to quickly for Negan to tell which meant what. 

“ _Goddamn,_ ” Negan drawled. “You got me. Now fucking  _punish_  me, Simon.”

Simon’s breath was cool against his skin. Negan’s lover had gone from aggressive to somewhat docile, if not gentle. Negan’s hips bucked as, finally, a hand wrapped around his erect cock. After a few strokes he was gnawing on his tongue, trying not to moan and wake up the entire camp. 

This was not the time for Simon to go slow. Negan could barely take it. He grunted out a soft, “Fuck,” before lowering his eyes. 

“Where’s the shit at, babe?” Simon murmured. His thumb drifted down Negan’s head, swiping against the seam of his balls, towards his hole. Negan grunted out a barely coherent reply, trying to stay focused. 

Simon reached over Negan’s head, rummaging through the box of supplies in the corner. When he returned, he held the bottle of lube in one hand. He had yet to let go of Negan’s cock, pumping softly as he popped open the bottle with his teeth. 

“Shit, shit,” Negan breathed. Pearly droplets of arousal leaked from his tip, which Simon swept towards his ass. Simon only released Negan’s cock so he could pull out his own. The tip, like Negan’s, was weeping, and it was long and hard and thick. 

“Turn over,” Simon instructed. “On your knees.”

“Fuck you,” Negan rasped, trying to keep his composure. He was losing it, feeling Simon’s strong hand press against his chest. He obeyed, forehead pressed against the blankets. Simon pushed in slow, a low growl vibrating through his entire body. 

“So  good,” Simon murmured. He placed a kiss against Negan’s shoulder, lightly biting the skin. “You feel so fucking good.  _That’s it_.”

Negan grit his teeth, grunting. He didn’t want to give Simon the satisfaction of hearing him moan. Not yet. His right hand man hadn’t earned it yet. 

“When are you fucking going to start,” Negan gasped, glancing over his shoulder. Simon drove in, hard, fingers white as he gripped Negan’s skin. His head was thrown out, mouth open in bliss as his lover clenched around him. Those veins were really noticeable now, along with the line of hair dipping past his navel, rippling like waves as Simon’s abdomen flexed and contorted with each hard thrust. 

“God, you look so fucking hot,” Negan shuddered. Simon’s free hand reached around to stroke Negan’s cock, harder and faster than before. 

“I’m going to fucking come,” Simon groaned, hips pumping as he gripped Negan tighter, reaching his peak fast and giving Negan the upper hand. “Shit - Negan-”

“Put your mouth on my fucking dick,” Negan slapped Simon’s hand away, lurching forward. Simon’s cock hung limp, come already dripping from the head. He looked confused, face flushed as Negan rolled back over. Again, he said, “Put your mouth on my fucking dick and I’ll let you come.”

The moment lips touched his cock, Negan let out a louder-than-intended groan. He didn’t care at this point. For all he knew, his men though he was masturbating. Simon’s was too good, his tongue running a strike along the underside before he sucked right on the head. Simon worked his mouth vigorously.

“You’re such a good boy, mouth full of cock. Who do you fucking belong to, huh?” Negan emphasized his words with with a tug to Simon’s hair, egging him on. The man beneath him increased his speed until Negan felt his cock swell and he came, shuddering as he desperately tried not to moan. He heard shuffling outside the truck and for the first time in his life, he wished it were walkers and not any of his men. 

Simon pulled back, wiping his mouth. With a look that made Negan shudder, Simon answered. 

“I belong to  _you_.”

Negan took a moment to regain his breath, feeling Simon’s mouth against his neck. They lay together, sprawled across the blankets. Negan’s eyes fluttered shut, only to open when Simon pressed a tender kiss against his parted lips. 

“ _God_ , I love you.”

“I  _know_ ,” Negan murmured. “And you know how I fucking feel about you, right?”

Simon scowled, but after a second of contemplation, shrugged and began to chuckle. He sat up, placing a palm against Negan’s bare chest as he rasped, “Yeah. I do. No need to say it.”

“Good. Because I fucking won’t. I can’t,” Negan stressed. “You fucking know that. You know that I can’t say that shit back to you, no matter how much you fucking want me to.”

“Then don’t.”

“You’re okay with that shit?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m with you,” Simon leaned back down. He jerked his chin towards one of the boxes in the corner. “I have you and tequila. Can’t ask for anything better than that.”


	13. First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Negan kiss for the first time.

“That’s six times today, Simon. Better keep your eyes up here or else I might have to fucking cut them out.”

“You don’t mean that,” Simon said absently. He was staring down at the bottle of scotch in his hand, posture the same as it always was - reclined and relaxed. Negan had felt his stare from across the room and, for the first time, he couldn’t tell why exactly his right hand man was acting the way he was.

_Oh, you know._

Both men were fidgety. Even Negan could admit it - there was an awkwardness between them that had never been felt before, and it had all started after Simon, ever the jokester, had mocked Negan for his taste in women before making a snide comment about Negan possibly having a taste for men. More specifically, men like _him._

_You should have just killed him._

_But you know he’s right. Plus, he was drunk. You were drunk._

Now Simon had this smug look on his face, like he was inviting Negan to come beat him up. It wouldn’t be much of a fight - physically, Simon was a bit more muscular and imposing although, a few hard hits from Lucille would put him down quick.

“Seriously, boss, you don’t,” Simon drawled. “This is the first time you’ve threatened me, you know.”  
“Congratu-fucking-lations then. I hope you’re happy,” Negan didn’t look up from his notepad, his handwriting becoming more and more aggressive until the pen scratched through and tore the paper. “Fucking hell.”

“Did I do something to make you angry?”

“Shut the fuck up, Simon.”

“C’mon. I at least deserve an explanation. I’ve known you forever and you typically have a reason for being pissed off,” Simon shrugged. “If it’s something I said, tell me.”

“You know what it is, asshole.”

“Actually, I don’t.”

“You’re really, really pushing your fucking luck,” Negan’s head shot up. Simon reeled back, apparently surprised by the acidity in Negan’s tone. “Either get the fuck out or shut the fuck up.”

Of course, Simon did neither. 

_Stubborn fucker._

Simon stood and slowly made his way over. He took a seat next to Negan, setting his bottle on the coffee table. Negan was almost forced to engage — his paper was torn and he had nothing else to really do. And he certainly wasn’t going to let Simondrive him out of his own bedroom. 

“You know what I think? I think you agree with what I said last night. About you and I,” Simon pointed at Negan, then at himself. “We have _something_.”

“Do you see sparks and shit when I talk? Can you read my fucking mind? If not, then we have _nothing_. You were fucking drunk and stupid, Simon. Not the first fucking time.”

Simon’s fingers brushed against Negan’s knee. Negan twitched, though not out of surprise. He felt something. He felt something, but he was afraid to go any further. 

“See? Something,” Simon licked his lips, leaning in close. Negan didn’t budge, deciding to stand his ground. He could see each fleck of brown in Simon’s eyes, now. Each little strand of greying hair on his face. He smelled like mint and gunpowder, like a fine blend, not to overpowering, but just enough.

Negan tensed, bracing himself and allowing Simon to kiss him. It started as a tender peck on Negan’s closed mouth. 

_Not bad._

Calloused fingers pressed lightly against Negan’s neck, stroking the skin and keeping his head steady. He leaned in next, all coherent thought lost, save for a spew of curse as his brain went into overdrive. 

_Whatareyoudoinghatareyoudoingwhatthefuck—_

Negan could taste the scotch on Simon’s tongue, and the faintest hint of tobacco. The more he thought, the more he realized that he enjoyed kissing Simon. He liked it. It wasn’t repulsive. It wasn’t like it was with his wives. It felt _different._

Simon pulled away, still grinning. 

“Don’t you hate being wrong?” Simon said. He chuckled, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “I never thought I’d say that to you.” 

“Fucking _careful_ now,” Negan scolded, mouth an inch from Simon’s. He aggressively nicked at it, taking Simon’s lower lip between his teeth and tugging. The grip on his neck increased and Negan snarled, trapping Simon’s head between his hands as he kissed him. Simon’s fingers skimmed his belt, before dipping beneath his shirt and skimming the warm skin above his navel. Negan didn’t stop him. At this point, he didn’t want to.

“I remember who I belong to. Don’t worry,” Simon murmured. 

“Who?” Negan snarled, biting down so hard that he drew blood. The coppery liquid tasted good, especially knowing that it was Simon’s. “Who do you fucking belong to, Simon? Fucking _tell_ me.”

Simon didn’t hesitate. 

“You.”


End file.
